prayer bead

the wind plucks my teeth out to make
a wild flower field. haven't you ever 
rolled your life into a marble & carried it,
searching for a tongue to put it on?
all the cherry pits i've swallowed without their flesh.
prayer is sweet until it is not. until it is
hard & knotted. until the gods walk down your throat
looking for a place to be blameless. to be children again. 
i have a jar of lady bugs i could use for eyes 
if i wanted to see the world i want to see. i'm told
to speak as if everything has already come to pass. 
truly, we are only on the first thumb. i shed my eyes.